


One Player Game

by apocalypseanna



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-05 16:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11582340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalypseanna/pseuds/apocalypseanna
Summary: Michael Mell has never had a friend. The closest thing he has is his crush and bully Jeremy Heere, who hates him and has been obsessed with Christine Canigula for as long as anyone can remember.Playing a one player game is hard, and it only gets harder when Jeremy tells him his secret--he has a squip. Maybe if Michael had said yes life would have been easier. But Michael never likes to make life easy for himself...AU where Jeremy and Michael never became friends and Jeremy gets a squip sophomore year. It basically goes through the musical plot with Michael in Jeremy's place up until The Squip Song. And of course lots of angst.





	1. First Day

Michael Mell had never felt more alone. Today was the start of his eleventh year of school. His eleventh year without a single friend. He sat in the driver’s seat of his car, not ready to get out yet, and reminded himself for the thousandth time that everything would be better in college. In college, there would be no assholes trying to make his life hell, and he would finally be the one on top. His vinyl collection and love of out of print video games would be admired, not scorned. He wouldn’t have to hide himself or pretend that he was someone he wasn’t in order to be liked. And maybe then he wouldn’t have to be so achingly lonely.  
The first bell rang and Michael reluctantly got out of his car. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and snapped the headphones over his ears until all sound was blocked out except for the groove of his Bob Marley song. Then he let himself be enveloped by the throng of kids moving towards their classes. He managed to pull himself out of the flow of traffic long enough to stop at his locker but found it blocked by a gaggle of hot girls. Chloe Valentine, Brooke Lohst, and Jenna Rolan. Michael sighed and started tapping his foot to try and get them to notice him waiting and move on but it was pointless.  
“So Jenna Rolan said Madeline was all ‘I’ll only have sex with you if you beat me at pool,’” Chloe said. “And then she lost at pool. Deliberately!”  
“That is so awesome,” Brooke said.  
“Brooke!”  
“I mean slutty!”  
“And then Madeline was all—” Jenna started to say, but Chloe cut her off.  
“I’m telling the story Jenna!” she shrieked. Michael laughed, despite himself.  
Chloe turned to him with a venomous look and then led the group away, stage whispering, “Oh my God he was totally getting off on that.”  
Michael shrugged it off and moved to his locker. He had just unlocked it when he heard a familiar voice filling the hallway and his stomach dropped away from him. It was Rich Goranski, which meant—  
“Hey short ass,” someone said right behind him. Michael hated the way that voice made him feel, like someone was sucking at his insides with a jumbo straw. He tried to turn around but the owner of the voice had his backpack held fast and was writing something on it.  
“You wash that off, you’re dead,” they said.  
Michael turned around to see Jeremy Heere walking off with Rich and laughing. God-fucking-dammit. Jeremy seemed absolutely dedicated to making Michael’s life as shitty as possible. So why did Michael get cartoon heart eyes whenever he was around?  
Anyway. Michael turned up his music and continued through the halls. The music always helped calm him down, especially when the weed didn’t.  
Just outside his first period, there was a poster on the wall. Normally Michael wouldn’t have given it a second glance, but even from 15 feet away he could see the name JEREMY HEERE scrawled on it, big enough to fill at least three spaces. Dickhead. What would Jeremy be signing up for? Michael had assumed that all Jeremy did after school was work out and hang with Rich. He squinted. The paper looked like a signup sheet for the afterschool play.  
Mystifyingly, Michael felt his feet start walking over to the list and the rest of his body followed. Before he even knew what he was doing his name was on the list, right beneath Jeremy’s. What the hell was wrong with him? He had always made it a point of pride to leave school before the final bell even finished ringing, and here he was signing up for voluntary torture, with Jeremy Heere no less.  
“Gay?” Someone asked behind him.  
“Huh?” He asked. He turned and saw Christine Canigula. Suddenly Jeremy’s name on the sheet made much more sense. Jeremy had been trying to sleep with Christine since freshman year, and every time she refused him he would start going after any girls he could find as if somehow that would help him get Christine. He must have known she would be signing up, and be trying to get more time with her.  
“On your backpack. Someone wrote gay on your backpack.” Michael twisted his head and saw that it was true.  
“The least they could do is be original,” he mumbled, and then shuffled away through the halls with an obligatory “Thanks for the heads up,” to Christine.  
The day passed in a slow-motion blur, every class feeling like an eternity and then being instantly forgotten as soon as Michael left. He left the campus to grab lunch at 7-11 but even the generous pour the girl had given him for his slushee couldn’t cheer him up. The high school routine just felt so empty, so lonely with no one to share it with. Michael saw no point in repeating the daily torture of sitting alone in the cafeteria and so he sat on the curb outside the store eating his sushi. When he got back to school there was no one to open the door for him so he waited outside for 10 minutes until some random kids passing by took pity on him and let him in late to sixth period. Then finally, the day was over, but instead of going home to marathon Apocalypse of the Damned, he was going to stay at school and go to play rehearsal. He really was going crazy. Outside the door to the theater room, he paused. He didn’t have to do this. But, then again, he would mock himself forever if he didn’t. Michael sighed and pushed the door open.  
Jeremy was sitting inside, alone.  
He looked over at Michael expectantly.  
“Oh. You,” he said.  
“E-expecting Christine?” Michael asked.  
“What’s it to you, dork?” he asked, which was the same thing as a yes.  
Michael kept his eyes down but didn’t stop looking at Jeremy as he walked to the last seat in the back row. Jeremy was snow white, tall and skinny with dark brown hair. Even though he was a dick, he had a friendly face, narrow with high cheekbones and a long skinny nose. And there was something about the way he always seemed a little nervous, no matter how hard he tried to act machismo, that drove Michael absolutely crazy. Suddenly, Jeremy turned around in his chair.  
“Hey asswipe,” he called across the empty seats. “Why do you always have to sit in the back for everything?”  
Michael blinked. “What?” He asked. He wasn’t sure if Jeremy had ever spoken to him about anything that wasn’t an insult before.  
“Literally every seat in this theater is open but you still go to the very back. What’s your deal?”  
“I—uh—”  
“God, don’t strain yourself. It’s just a question.”  
“I guess I just don’t want to call attention to myself.”  
“Why not? It’s not like you’re ugly or anything.”  
Michael felt the pink creep into his cheeks. That was practically a compliment coming from Jeremy. “I don’t know,” he said.  
“You know, you could have friends if you just tried. You act like this tortured loner but you’re the one isolating yourself.”  
“H-how would you even know that?” Michael asked. “And why do you care anyway? You hate me.”  
“I notice things,” Jeremy said. “And I don’t hate you. You’re just an easy target.”  
Michael opened his mouth to rebuke, but then the other popular kids came rolling into the black box and Jeremy shook his head almost imperceptibly at Michael and went to join them. Michael closed his mouth, sliding down further in his seat. He almost didn’t notice when someone sat down next to him.  
“You’re the kid with gay written on your backpack,” a girl said. Michael looked up and saw Christine Canigula in the chair beside him.  
“I also go by Michael,” Michael said.  
“I’m Christine. You’re a virgin, right?”  
“What?” Michael spluttered.  
“First play practice?”  
“Uh huh,” Michael said.  
“I’m a little jealous actually. You never forget your first. Play rehearsal, I mean. So what made you want to join up? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your headphones on before.”  
Michael looked over to where Jeremy was talking loudly with Rich about something, then tried to look like he wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “I just love Shakespeare,” he said.  
At that point, Mr. Reyes, the drama teacher entered, saving Michael from having to have a conversation about a playwright he barely knew anything about.  
Mr. Reyes started talking about the show, and Michael listened carefully. He really wasn’t too crazy about the play—although the zombies did sound sick—but he figured if he was paid a lot of attention to what was going on he would get to have more scenes, and maybe more interactions with Jeremy. And onstage, Jeremy would just be saying a bunch of Shakespearian mumbo-jumbo that Michael could tune out and just look at his face, with no distractions for once.  
“Hot Pocket Break!” Mr. Reyes was saying and suddenly he and most of the other kids were getting up and going to the other room, leaving Michael alone with Jake, Christine, and Jeremy. Damn it.  
With the teacher gone, Christine drew in the other two boys like a magnet. Jake sat in the chair to her left and started talking to her, while Jeremy found an obstacle to the right in the form of Michael.  
“Could you please move?” he asked, which was very strange to hear from Jeremy, but then again he probably didn’t want to seem like too much of a jerk in front of Christine. Michael got up to go, but Christine pulled him back down.  
“Michael was here first,” she said. “There’s plenty of chairs for you to sit in that don’t have him in them.”  
“I—I mean, I could move,” Michael stammered, looking at Jeremy’s glare.  
Christine sighed like she was frustrated, then said. “If you want,” and Michael gave up his seat for Jeremy.  
He moved up to the front row of chairs, on the far left, and started playing a game on his phone, hoping Mr. Reyes would come back in soon.  
“You did it again dumbass,” came Jeremy’s voice from right next to Michael. Michael jumped and lost the level on his phone. “This is the farthest you could be from everyone else in this room.”  
“Sorry?” Michael muttered.  
“Whatever. Look, I need to talk to you after rehearsal.”  
“Um, why?”  
“If I could tell you that right now, I wouldn’t need to talk to you later. Think, dipshit.”  
“Okay, fine.”  
“Meet me in the bathroom when this is over. And don’t think this means we’re pals or anything, because we’re not.”  
“Right. Just two dudes spending quality time in a public restroom.”  
“Shut up dickless. I’ll see you there.”  
And then he was gone.  
The rest of play rehearsal went by ridiculously slowly. For one thing, now that Michael was in the front row, it was like the Splash Zone at Mr. Reyes Sea World, and for another he couldn’t stop thinking about Jeremy. Was it a trap? Was Jeremy going to try and humiliate Michael, again, just like he had with the Doritos incident or the yoga episode? Or was this just some way of Jeremy trying to make himself feel better after treating Michael like garbage for so long? You really could never be sure with Jeremy. Some days he would be unbearably cruel, and other days he would treat Michael like they were friends, even though Michael barely knew him. But Michael was still obsessed with him, no matter what kind of day it was.  
Finally, Michael received his copy of A Midsummer Nightmare About Zombies, and the rehearsal was adjourned with a final falsetto screech from Mr. Reyes. Michael made a beeline for the bathroom, and waited by the sinks. He checked his reflection in the mirror, doing a once over for any major flaws or stuff in his teeth. Michael had chubby cheeks, cinnamon skin, and dark hair falling all over his face. He was tall and big and awkward, not ugly, just another average person you pass in the halls and don’t think twice about. He was fine with the average part but sometimes he wished he could be more handsome. Or skinnier. Maybe then Jeremy could notice him as more than an object for torture. Michael laughed and looked away from the mirror. Jeremy was the straightest guy in the school, behind maybe Jake Dillinger. It would never happen.  
Then the door opened and Jeremy stepped inside, looking around to make sure he wasn’t followed.  
“Hey tall ass,” he said to Michael.  
“Nice to see you too Jeremy,” Michael said sarcastically. “You know, I’m not even that tall. I’m only like an inch above you.”  
“You’d be taller if you weren’t hunched over so scared all the time. It’s pathetic. Who’s going to hurt you?”  
“You! Literally you, all the t-time.”  
Jeremy actually seemed surprised, the dickhead.  
Michael sighed. “Look, why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” He asked.  
“Because I think I could give you some help. Make you more popular,” Jeremy replied.  
“So you’re, what, going to give me advice?”  
Jeremy laughed. “I have something much better for you than advice. You don’t remember me freshman year, do you?”  
What? “Uh, you didn’t go here freshman year?”  
“Exactly. I was such a loser that no one noticed I was even alive. I spent all my time playing video games or jacking off. I couldn’t so much as speak to a girl. Matter of fact, I could barely speak to anyone I stuttered so badly. I had no friends, no life, no clue. And then… I got a squip.”  
“You got quick?” Michael asked.  
“No, not quick. Squip. It’s a computer from Japan. It’s a grey oblong pill that travels through your blood until it implants in your brain and tells you how to be cool.”  
Michael tried to understand what he was hearing. “So… it’s like a drug?”  
Jeremy shook his head and smiled knowingly. “It’s better than drugs Michael. It’s quantum nanotechnology. It’s a highly advanced computer in your mind that understands everything about the world and uses that information to tell you what to do to ensure maximum popularity.”  
“Come on,” Michael said. “If this was real, I would know about it already. Everyone would know about it.”  
Jeremy shook his head. “Not so. This is some top secret can’t-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet shit. I shouldn’t even be telling you about it”  
“So… why are you telling me about it?”  
“Because I think you might be interested in getting a squip of your own. I sell them. 600 bucks to totally change your life.”  
“How do I know you’re not scamming me?” Michael asked slowly.  
Jeremy paused for a second, maybe listening, and then he pulled out his phone. After a few swipes, he pulled up a picture and showed it to Michael. “That was two years ago,” he said.  
The picture was probably one of those first day of high school pictures. Jeremy was standing in front of a modest one level house, but he looked noticeably different from the Jeremy standing in front of Michael. He was scrawnier, and seemed shorter, with worse skin. His hair was wild and sticking up all over his head instead of gelled back, and he had an adorable little nervous smile on his face. He was wearing a Pac Man T-shirt and basketball shorts. Michael felt a pang when he saw it. Jeremy seemed so much happier in the picture.  
Jeremy pulled the phone back after two seconds and put it away. “You see?” He said. “Results guaranteed.”  
Michael wished he could just say no immediately, that he didn’t want to end up an asshole like Jeremy or Rich but he couldn’t. It would be so nice to have friends. To be cool. Maybe even to get a boyfriend, even if it wasn’t Jeremy. But then he really thought about it. Even if the squip did work, nothing would actually change. No one would like him for him, just for some person he pretended to be. And Michael wasn’t willing to change himself just to be popular. If a squip meant he’d have to give up his vintage sodas, or his video games, or his Weezer albums, he’d rather just stay alone.  
“I’m good,” he said. “Thanks.”  
“What?” Jeremy asked, taken aback.  
Michael put his head down and headed for the door, but Jeremy cut him off.  
“Wait, wait, wait. Picture this: Nobody cares if you’re late, because even teachers love you. Your weekend is just full of partying and blowout benders. You can get any girl—” he eyed the rainbow patch on Michael’s jacket— “Or guy you want. Right now, you’re hopeless, just a blip on the school social map. But if you take my advice, your whole life will turn around.”  
Any guy he wanted. Could the squip help him get Jeremy? Michael allowed his eyes to flicker up towards Jeremy’s. They were eager, expectant. And of course, beautiful. “I—” he stammered. “I—can’t.” He hadn’t been planning to say no again but the words seemed to come out of their own accord. He wasn’t going to end up with Jeremy, squip or no. He didn’t want to end up like Jeremy with Christine, changing himself to chase after someone who was never going to feel the same way he did.  
Jeremy actually seemed disappointed, which was surprising. He probably just regretted that he wouldn’t get any money.  
“If you change your mind, bring the money Monday,” he said slowly, confirming Michael’s theory.  
“I won’t,” Michael said. He pushed towards the door.  
“You know, I only acted like a dick to you because my squip told me to. Y-you’re a good guy Michael,” Jeremy said.  
“Thanks,” Michael said, and left the bathroom. Honestly, that was almost weirder than the whole rest of the conversation. It was only later, in the middle of a game of Apocalypse of the Damned single player, that Michael realized that it was the first time he’d heard Jeremy say his name.


	2. Seeing Jeremy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael sees Jeremy a few more times--it doesn't go well. Then everything gets even worse. This chapter basically includes Do You Want A Ride to Michael in the Bathroom.   
> Content Warning- f slur right before the end.

Saturday, Michael was hanging out at Spencer’s gifts when he saw Jeremy again.  
Spencer’s had become like a second home to Michael over the past few years. He loved the dank feeling of the store itself, the mid to garbage level emo music they played and the rows of t-shirt and ear gauge displays set up throughout the store that always seemed like they were about to tumble over. And the back room, where he usually hung out, was nice and removed, with only the thumping bass from the store’s radio and the calming musty feeling of stacked up cardboard boxes and incandescent lights to have to worry about.   
The girl who sold him the sodas, Kristy, was all right too. She played some of the same video games he did, and liked the same music, but she mostly kept to herself and avoided conversation. She was probably the closest thing Michael had to a friend, and sometimes he would go hang around the mall with her for a few hours if his parents were acting particularly heinous. It was nice. It gave him time to think.   
Anyway. Kristy’s shift had ended early that day and Michael was just leaving the store when he saw Jeremy walking past with Brooke and Chloe on either arm, holding a Pinkberry container and laughing. As soon as he spotted him, Michael froze where he stood and almost dropped his Crystal Pepsi.  
Jeremy glanced over his way and then detached himself from the two girls. For a terrifying moment, Michael thought he was going to come over to him, but he just gave Michael a small nod and looked pointedly over to where the mall bathrooms were. Then he walked off in the same direction. Was Michael supposed to follow him? Maybe he should go check it out, just in case he was.  
Chloe and Brooke were looking at Michael and giggling, and he somehow managed to get even redder. He finally shook himself and followed Jeremy to the bathrooms, giving it a wide berth so that the girls wouldn’t think he was going after him.   
Jeremy was waiting in the narrow hallway which contained the bathroom doors and a few vending machines.   
“Hey man,” he said. No insult. Weird…  
“What is this?” Michael asked.   
“Nothing, I swear.” Why did Jeremy look like he felt bad? What was he playing at? “I just wanted to talk to you.”  
“All right…” Michael said.  
“I keep thinking about what you said about not wanting a squip. I can’t figure out why you would say no. It’s driving me crazy.”  
“Um… I mean, I guess… I just don’t want to change myself. It would be cool to be popular, but I would want to do it on my own terms, you know? It’s like, what’s the point of having people like me if I don’t like myself?”  
“Hmm…” Michael avoided looking at Jeremy and just kept going.  
“And I mean it’s not like it’ll be this way forever. When I get to college, I’ll probably be even cooler than you. No squip necessary.”  
Jeremy laughed. “No way,” he said.  
“It’s true. Here, I’m lame. I like out of print games, retro skates, and vintage sodas. I’ve got a Pac-Man tattoo for Christ’s sakes. But in college people think that’s awesome.”  
“You’ve really got a Pac-Man tattoo?” Jeremy asked. Michael nodded. “Can I see?”  
Michael slid off one shoulder of his jacket and showed Jeremy the Pac-Man tattoo he’d gotten the past fall.  
“You have got to be kidding me,” Jeremy said. Michael was sure he was about to be humiliated but then Jeremy slid up his own sleeve, revealing an almost identical tattoo.  
“Oh my God,” Michael said.   
“I got it right before I got the squip,” Jeremy said, with the same dopey smile he’d had in his first day of school picture. “But you can’t tell anyone.”  
“Who would I tell?” Michael asked. There was a warm feeling in his chest, like this was the way things were supposed to be. Then—  
“What the fuck makes you think you have the right to talk to me nerd?” Jeremy asked loudly.  
Michael looked back up at him, alarmed. “I—I—” he choked out. What had just happened?  
“Oh my God Jeremy,” came a girl’s voice from the end of the hallway. “What are you doing?”  
“This fucking weirdo came up to me and tried to get me to write ‘I love you’ on his fucking Pepsi!” Jeremy said, ignoring Michael altogether.  
Chloe laughed. “Seriously? He’s such a creep!” Michael pushed out of the little hallway, his face burning. He was such an idiot. Jeremy only cared about himself and his reputation. And now everyone was going to think Michael had an insane stalker crush on Jeremy, and he was going to be ruined. It didn’t help that it was true.  
***  
Monday. There was no part of the day Michael was looking forward to. The main reason he’d survived high school as long as he had was his invisibility. The only person who’d ever singled him out had been Jeremy, and that was for the daily torture. Everyone else just ignored him, or treated him like your average everyday scum. But now everyone was going to have heard about Saturday. He was about to get a promotion to Scum Deluxe, and he wasn’t ready.  
Michael had his headphones on even before he finished pulling into the student parking lot. No Bob Marley today, a situation this delicate called for Weezer at top volume. He walked into school, braced for the worst. Luckily, the music muffled most of the mean things people he could hear people yelling at him, and by keeping his eyes down he avoided most of the stares and judging glances. Unluckily, both of those things also caused him to crash directly into Christine Canigula.   
“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Michael said, yanking the headphones off so he could actually hear the noise of the hallway around him. He scrambled around on the floor trying to pick up Christine’s stuff.  
“It’s fine,” Christine said, sounding flustered. “I was just trying to avoid…”  
“Hey Christine!” God fucking damn it. The school wasn’t even that small so why couldn’t Michael ever seem to avoid Jeremy? Luckily, Jeremy was completely ignoring him “How’s it going?”  
“Fine,” Christine snapped.  
“I was wondering if you might want to go over some lines or something at lunch,” Jeremy said. “You know, for the play?”  
“I’m Puck,” Christine said, like she was saying the sky was blue. “You’re Lysander. We don’t even have any lines together.”  
“Well, yeah, but there’s that scene where you give me the pansy serum that we could go over…”  
Michael stood up and handed Christine her papers, then he turned to walk away.  
“Why don’t you practice with Michael instead? You have way more lines with him than me.” Michael stopped mid-step. Yes, please. Or no. Michael wasn’t sure which answer he wanted.  
“Michael isn’t as pretty as you,” Jeremy said. Michael wondered how Jeremy’s brain and the squip both managed to miss how blatantly Christine wasn’t into him. “How about the three of us? Demetrius has lines with both of us, doesn’t he?”  
“Yeah, he does,” Michael said. Christine shot him a dirty look.   
“Then why not?” Jeremy asked. “Drama room, at lunch. I’m sure Reyes won’t mind.”  
“Fine,” Christine said again.   
“Okay,” Michael said, forgetting that he was supposed to hate Jeremy.  
“Perfect. See ya then,” Jeremy said, mostly to Christine, and then left the way he came.  
“This should be fun,” Michael said to Christine. She groaned.  
“Kill me now,” she said, and then she walked off, leaving Michael alone in the hallway. It was only then that he let the smile take over his lips. He was going to have lunch with Jeremy. His day was better already.  
***  
Michael closed his Midsummer script as Christine walked up to him, and got up from where he had been sitting next to the black box door.  
“Hey,” Christine said. “Why didn’t you go in?”  
“I was afraid if I went in on my own Reyes might start throwing reasonably priced crafting supplies at me.”  
Christine laughed, a half shriek half snort that was somehow kind of adorable. Michael understood why Jeremy would like her.  
Truthfully, Michael had been waiting outside the black box for half an hour, making sure that his lines were totally solid so he could impress Jeremy. But he felt like that might be a tad embarrassing to say.  
“Come on,” she said, opening the door and gesturing Michael inside.  
They pulled some chairs up to an ancient table that was covered with so many years of glitter, makeup, and mic tape that you could barely see the grain of the wood and got out their scripts.  
Christine put her lunch tray down on the table then looked over to Michael.  
“Aren’t you going to go get lunch?” Christine asked, noting the absence of a white Styrofoam tray anywhere on Michael’s person.  
“God no,” Michael said. “I don’t have a death wish.”  
He pulled the sushi roll of the day out of his backpack and laid it out on the table, followed by a blue raspberry slushee.   
“Didn’t you just say you don’t have a death wish?” Christine asked, eyeing his meal.  
“Hey, don’t knock the Sev-Elev. At least this stuff tastes good,” Michael said. Christine shrugged and took a bite of her Might-Be-Chicken Patty.  
Michael eyed the door. Where the hell was Jeremy?   
“Could I ask you a hypothetical question?” Christine asked, interrupting Michael’s train of thought.  
“Shoot,” he said.  
“Say there’s this person that you pass in the hall every day, that you’ve known since seventh grade. And you’re used to thinking about them in a certain way, but now somethings changed. Like, they’ve gone from someone you’d never be interested in to someone you might maybe kind of be interested in. What would you do?”  
Say nothing and pine after them until the day you die, Michael thought. “I guess you should maybe ask them out and see if you’re into it or not,” he said.   
“Hmmm…” Christine said. “Okay…” It wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for.  
“Are you talking about Jeremy?” Michael asked.  
Christine rolled her eyes. “Oh God no,” she said. “I was talking about Jake!”  
“Oh,” Michael said. He stuck a piece of sushi in his mouth. “What happened with Jeremy over the weekend? You seem a little more—touchy—about him.”  
Christine sighed in a huff. “Would you believe that he told me again over the weekend that he loves me?”  
“No…” Michael said. “Jesus Christ man.”  
“I know! And I told him again, nicely, that I don’t like him that way and he’s still coming after me! He just won’t stop. It’s honestly bordering on harassment at this point.”  
“Damn. I had no idea.”  
“I don’t know what his deal is. He seems to think he can win me over and it’ll change something with me, but it’s not going to. I’m never going to think of him that way. I seriously used to think I was ace before this stuff with Jake started happening.”  
Christine took another bite of her sandwich, and then swallowed.  
“I really don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she said. “I mean, I guess you get it, being in love with Jeremy and all.”  
Michael choked on a piece of sushi. “WHAT?” He asked with his mouth full.  
The black box door opened. “Hey Christine,” Jeremy said. “Hey Michael.”  
“Hey,” Michael mumbled into his slushee, not wanting to look at Christine or Jeremy.  
“So,” Christine said. “Lines?”  
They ran their lines until the lunch bell rang, although there was no point in the play where the three of their characters all talked together, meaning that either Jeremy or Christine was always free doing something else. In Jeremy’s case, it was usually trying to get closer to Christine, and in Christine’s case it was usually trying to get away from Jeremy. It was so bad that Michael asked Jeremy to stay after lunch for a second to talk to him about it.  
“Look man,” he said, once Christine had left and was definitely out of earshot. “Your life is your life, but you seriously need to cut it out with Christine. She says you’re harassing her.”  
Jeremy looked shocked for a second, then his face composed. “I was just doing what my squip said to do,” he said, in an obnoxiously self-assured way.  
“Well maybe you should get your head out of your squip sometimes and actually look at the consequences of your actions! She’s creeped out. You have to stop bothering her.”  
Jeremy looked horrified, then calm, and then horrified again. It looked like his face was fighting itself. “Hang on, hang on. Shutdown,” Jeremy said. “I can’t think with that thing in my ear sometimes. I’m really harassing Christine?”  
“Yeah, you are.”  
He sighed. “Fuck,” he said. “I don’t even like her anymore, but my fucking squip won’t let me give it up. He keeps saying it’s all part of the bigger plan or whatever. I swear to God I would never try to harass a girl like that. It’s all up here,” he said, tapping his head.   
“I get it,” Michael said. “But maybe you have to just listen to yourself and try to move on.”  
Jeremy started to nod, then he started twitching and an angry look came over his face. “Wow,” he said. “I can’t believe I actually fell for that. You’re just making this up. You don’t want me to be with Christine because you’re jealous. You want me all to yourself.”  
“What?” Michael asked. “Jeremy look at yourself! This isn’t you. You don’t want to do this to Christine!”  
“You don’t even know who I am! Just leave me the fuck alone!”  
With that, Jeremy stormed out of the black box.  
Over the next few days, it was like Jeremy didn’t even see Michael. Michael had never thought he’d miss the daily torture but at least then Jeremy was noticing him. Now it was like Michael was invisible. The closest thing they had to an interaction was when Jeremy almost bumped into Michael while muttering something about an upgrade, but even then, it was like he looked straight through him. Not only that, Jeremy had increased his efforts for Christine tenfold, although now that Jake and Christine were getting closer he seemed limited to going at her through Brooke.  
The whole thing scared Michael a lot. Even though Jeremy claimed that squips were “can’t-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet” stuff, Michael managed to find a few things hidden in forums and through friends of friends. And the more he learned, the more freaked out he got. He decided that he had to confront Jeremy about the squip, even if it meant Jeremy would hate him. So Michael cornered him in the hallway one day.  
“Jeremy, you have to listen to me. You’re in danger.” It was right outside of history, in a dead-end hallway where there had a doorway before part of the building had collapsed in a sinkhole.  
At first, it was like before—Jeremy looked through Michael like he was made of glass and then tried to push past him. But Michael was a big guy, and he filled up the entire hallway so that there was no way Jeremy could get through, and gradually Jeremy was forced to actually look at him.  
“Michael?” He asked, sounding perplexed. “Where have you been all this time?”  
“Trying to talk to you, asshole. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks.”  
“I haven’t seen you for weeks, I thought you were avoiding—” Then he stopped, like he was listening to something. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked the thin air to Michael’s right. “That is such an invasion of—ughhhh.”  
“You good?” Michael asked, slightly freaked out.  
“It’s my fucking squip. It’s been acting insane—no, shut up, it’s my fucking eyes and I’ll see what I fucking—”  
Then Jeremy paused for a very long time, nodding occasionally. Finally, a smile came over his face.  
“Michael, I am so sorry,” he said. “I really didn’t mean to ignore you like that, it’s just that—”  
And then Jeremy ran for it, pushing under one of Michael’s arms and into the crowd. As he ran, Michael could have sworn he heard him shout “Optic nerve blocking on.”  
Fuck. Just—fuck.  
After that, Michael was invisible again. Invisible and very worried about his friend. Or maybe not even friend, because it wasn’t like they’d ever gotten close enough to be considered friends. Bully, maybe. God, it was pathetic.  
Then, Michael started hearing about the Halloween party. Normally he would have completely blown it off—it wasn’t like he had anyone to go with—but it would be the perfect opportunity to try and talk to Jeremy. From what Michael had read, alcohol interfered with the squip’s ability to function properly, so maybe if Michael could catch Jeremy drunk and talk to him, Jeremy would actually listen.  
What Michael didn’t realize was that going to the party would entail actually going to a party. He parked his car about a block away from Jake’s house and the closer he got the more he started to feel like he was making a mistake. The ground was literally vibrating around the house from the bass, and there were people in costumes swarming around everywhere. Oh, right--costumes. Damn, Michael had forgotten about that part.   
He squeezed in through the front door and tried to look for Jeremy, but there were so many people, and it was so hard to see that eventually he just gave up. He could be anywhere. Someone passed Michael a blunt and he obediently took a hit and then passed it on, but even the pot didn’t do much to calm his nerves. He was at a party with a bunch of people who didn’t know or care he existed, standing like an awkward statue next to the newel post. In an attempt to seem at least a little like he was there for a reason, he got his phone out and pretended to check a text, but even that didn’t last very long. Eventually Michael was forced to retreat up the stairs to somewhere he could breathe.  
The hallway upstairs was crowded too—Jesus how many people were at this party? —so Michael grabbed the first door handle he saw and opened it. Luckily, it was just a bathroom. Michael closed the door behind him and slid down against it, his head in his hands. This night was not going well. But he couldn’t just go back home after the planning he’d done. He still had to save Jeremy Heere. The most annoying thing was that he didn’t even know why he needed to save him so badly. Jeremy had definitely never asked for any help, and it would be so much easier to just watch as Jeremy was led off the deep end, but Michael couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t. Because every time Jeremy walked past Michael it felt like a knife going through his throat. Because Jeremy got dimples when he smiled and it was the cutest thing in the world and Michael wanted him to know. Because even though Jeremy had been nothing but shitty to Michael for two years, he’d noticed him, which was better than anyone else in the fucking school.  
Because Michael just really wanted to fucking kiss him okay? And maybe if Michael was a good fucking boy and he helped Jeremy get rid of this squip, maybe Jeremy would finally let him.   
Michael suddenly noticed that everything had gotten significantly louder outside and he could hear yelling. He decided that maybe against the door was not the best place to be in case of a fight, and so he got into the bathtub and slid way down until he couldn’t be seen. The back of his sweatshirt was getting wet, but Michael didn’t really care.   
Suddenly the door flew open and Jeremy ran inside then closed and locked the door. Michael felt his body tense up with nerves. Jeremy looked more disheveled than usual, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. Michael noticed with a pang in his stomach that Jeremy’s cyborg costume hadn’t been quite put on correctly, as if Jeremy had been in a hurry to get it on again after something. Whatever. It wasn’t a big deal. Jeremy took several deep breaths and then walked over to sit on the edge of the tub. Michael reached up to grab him and get his attention and took more than a little pleasure in how much Jeremy startled.  
“Sup,” Michael said.  
“Michael?” Jeremy asked. “I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”  
“I wasn’t,” Michael said. “Which is why I’m wearing this clever disguise.”  
Jeremy stared blankly at Michael’s completely normal outfit.  
“You’re speechless,” Michael said. “Squip got your tongue?”  
“It’s…off,” Jeremy said.  
Michael sighed internally. He finally had the chance to talk to Jeremy. But he was feeling bitter, about Jeremy ignoring him for so long, about whoever Jeremy had just had sex with.  
“That would explain why you’re talking to me,” Michael said. “You know, I’ve been trying to save your ass this whole time, which I might add is very fucking gracious of me to do seeing as you told everyone I’m in love with you, and you have been completely ignoring me. What the fuck is wrong with you why are you looking at me like that?”  
Jeremy, who had been staring at Michael like he was his long-lost brother or something, said “it’s—it’s just really good to see you man.”  
Michael blinked. How could he stay mad at Jeremy when he said that? “You too,” he said slowly. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. “I need to talk to you about your squip. It’s important.”  
“All right,” Jeremy said.  
Michael dug back in his brain to the monologue he had planned earlier at home, which had somehow managed to completely flee his brain. “So. So I was doing some research about your little squip problem and—”  
“How?” Jeremy interrupted. “There’s nothing online.”  
“Which is weird, right?” Michael said. “I mean, what’s not on the internet? So, I started asking around. Finally, this guy I found on a sub-sub-sub-subreddit told me how his brother went from a straight D student to a freshman at Harvard. You know where he is now?”  
“Really happy and successful?” Jeremy asked.   
“He’s in a mental hospital. Totally lost it.”  
“I don’t see what this has to do with me,” Jeremy said and Michael nearly hit him.  
“Think, man! We’re talking an insanely powerful super-computer? You really think its primary function is to get you laid? Who made them? How did they end up in a high school? In New Jersey? Of all possible applications for such a mind-blowingly advanced technology, you ever wonder what it’s doing inside YOU?”  
Jeremy looked stunned. Then he said quietly, “You know, if you wanted one you could have just told me.”  
What? “No, I don’t fucking want a squip! Think! I’m honestly asking.”  
“Really? Because I think maybe the squip is right. Maybe you are just pissed that I have one and you don’t.”  
Holy shit, was he really this stupid? “Come on!” Michael said.  
“Maybe I got lucky, okay? Maybe the universe decided to give me a goddamn break, because God knows I deserve one. And I don’t know about this sub-sub-sub-whatever but if you’re telling me that his squip made him crazy—”  
“His squip didn’t make him crazy,” Michael said. “He went crazy trying to get it out.”  
“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about. Why would I want that?” Jeremy asked. Michael was speechless.  
Jeremy started stomping over to the door, but Michael stopped him.  
“Don’t you see how it’s making you act?” He asked desperately.  
“Move it,” Jeremy said.  
“You have to get it out. And I know how, you just have to—”  
“GET OUT OF MY WAY!”   
Michael moved aside, wordlessly.  
“Loser.” Jeremy spat the word at him like it was acid, and slammed the door behind him.   
Michael couldn’t help it. He started sobbing. Someone knocked at the door.  
“Hello! Other people have to pee!” They said.  
“I’m having my period,” Michael shouted through his snot and tears. He didn’t even hear the response.  
Michael’s whole body racked with the sobs. He was sure that more people would come knocking at the door but he couldn’t stop crying. Fuck. He looked up at his reflection, tears clouding his vision, and saw the same cinnamon color skin, chubby cheeks, and dark hair, surrounding an ugly, sobbing face. He punched the mirror and his vision went black with pain for a second. He would never be good enough for Jeremy Heere. Never be good enough for anybody. Maybe there was a reason Michael didn’t have any friends. Maybe he was just meant to be alone.   
Someone was knocking at the door, and the knocking wouldn’t stop, but Michael’s crying wouldn’t stop. He pulled out the glass shards from his hand and started wrapping it in a towel, but he was shaking so badly nothing was working. And the knocking continued.  
This party was the worst decision of his life. He should have stayed at home, watching cable porn and getting stoned. Or maybe he should just have never been born in the first place, would the world really be any worse off? Would anyone even notice, if he vanished right fucking now? Would anyone even care? Would anyone? —anyone? –God-Fucking—  
Michael splashed some water on his face. He was okay. He was going to be okay now. He went to the door to open it, but the knocking had stopped. Or maybe it had never been there in the first place.  
Michael sat back down on the edge of the bathtub. Outside, he could hear people chanting someone’s name. How many people at this party even knew his name? Or knew the first thing about him? He knew what people said about him. Michael the weirdo, Michael the creep, Michael the stoner, Michael the stalker, Michael the pervert, Michael the faggot, Michael the fucking LOSER. He just never thought Jeremy would say it—that Jeremy would really believe it. But he did and Michael was an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. For ever thinking that Jeremy would ever care about him.  
Awesome fucking party, he thought. I’m so glad I came.


	3. Michael Makes An Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael gets caught in a fire and is shaken. He keeps trying to save Jeremy. This chapter covers from Rich Set A Fire to The Play.

Michael had just managed to calm down enough to start actually bandaging his hand, when he realized that the beeping sound he’d been tuning out was a smoke detector. Oh shit. He opened the bathroom door and found the hallway empty.  
Jake ran by. “What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!” He shouted. Michael ran down the stairs into the smoky living room. He realized what a big mistake this particular path had been when he saw the dining room engulfed in flames, but it was too late to turn back so Michael pulled his sweater over his mouth and ran through the living room and out the front door. He gulped in the cool October air. Holy shit. Holy shit.   
His phone was in his half-bandaged hand and he was calling 911 before the shock even registered.  
“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator asked.  
“My friend’s house is on fire,” Michael choked out.   
“Where are you?”  
He gave the address, his voice shaking.  
“What is your name?”  
“Michael Mell. The house belongs to Jake Dillinger’s family.”  
“Don’t hang up. Help is on the way.”  
“Please, hurry. My friend is still inside.”  
“Is anyone else still inside?”  
“No. Maybe. I only saw Jake.”  
“Are you hurt?”  
Michael looked at the bandage on his hand. “Not from the fire,” he said.   
“How severe is the fire?”   
“It looked like the whole dining room and maybe more. There was smoke everywhere”  
“Okay. Stay calm, we’re sending several fire trucks and an ambulance.”  
“Wait—I see Jake. And someone else. Holy shit, he just jumped out of the window.”  
Michael ran over to the ground where he had fallen. He was holding… oh my God. It was Rich, but it looked like his skin had been replaced with something pink and white and fleshy. And Jake’s legs should NOT be bending like that.  
“They’re hurt, really badly,” Michael said into the phone. He thought he was going to throw up.   
“Are they a safe distance from the fire?”  
Michael checked. They’d landed pretty far from the house. “Yes,” he said.  
“Can you describe the injuries?”  
“It looks like Jake broke his legs. And Rich is really burned.”  
“Are they breathing?”  
Michael held his hand in front of Rich’s mouth, then Jake’s. “Yes.”  
“Are they conscious?”  
“No.”  
“Is Rich the other person?”  
“Yes.”  
“Can you give me his full name please?”  
“Rich Goranski.”  
“How old are Rich and Jake?”  
“They’re juniors at Middleborough.”  
“How old are you Michael?”  
“I’m 17.”  
“Okay. Is there anyone else in the house? Any parents or family?”  
Michael shook his head, then realized the dispatcher couldn’t see that. “No. Jake’s parents were out of town. He was having a party.”  
Rich groaned.  
“I think Rich is conscious,” Michael said. “Rich, is there anyone left in the house?”  
“Red mountain dew,” Rich muttered.   
“He’s not lucid yet,” Michael said to the dispatch.  
“That’s okay. The ambulance should arrive soon.”  
“I can hear the sirens!” Michael said. There were two fire trucks and an ambulance barreling down the street towards the house. They pulled up on the side of the road.  
The fire was really going now, and the whole house was ablaze in angry orange and yellow light. Firefighters poured out of the trucks and started setting up their hose on the fire hydrant nearby.  
“They’re here now. Thank you for everything,” Michael said.   
The line disconnected and Michael put the phone down numbly. A medic came towards him.  
“There,” Michael said, pointing at Rich and Jake. The medic called over a few others and soon Rich and Jake were on stretchers in the ambulance.  
“Are they going to be okay?” Michael asked.   
The EMT nodded. “The burns aren’t the worst I’ve ever seen. He should recover with some skin grafts and burn treatments. And your friend with the broken legs is going to need crutches for a long time, but he should be okay.”  
“Oh,” Michael said quietly.  
“Were you in the fire?” The EMT asked. “I need to check you out.”  
“No, I wasn’t in the fire,” Michael lied. He felt fine, and he just wanted to go home.  
The EMT looked at him doubtfully. Then she saw his hand. “What happened to your hand?” She asked, sounding concerned.  
“I—uh—punched a mirror,” Michael said.  
The EMT tutted and took his hand. “Let me treat this at least. You helped save your friends. It’s the least I can do.”  
Michael sighed. “Fine.” He didn’t feel like he’d saved his friends. Not when he saw the used-to-be skin all over Rich’s arms and shoulders.  
The EMT picked out a few tiny glass shards Michael had missed and cleaned the wound. Then she wrapped it in bandages. “I really should treat you for shock,” she said hesitantly.   
“I’m fine,” Michael said. “I don’t need any treatment. I just want to go home. Please.”  
“All right,” the EMT conceded. “You were very brave today. Don’t go punching any more mirrors, okay?”  
Michael nodded and walked down the street to where his car was. He watched the smoke from the fire the whole drive home, feeling anything but brave.  
The next few days felt like a strange underwater dream. All anyone was talking about on social media was the fire, and that was the last thing Michael wanted to hear about. He tried to play video games to take his mind off things but that just reminded him of Jeremy and his squip, and he couldn’t get stoned because the smoke reminded him of the fire. So he spent the whole weekend drinking and watching Discovery channel, because there was nothing else he could think to do.  
Monday, he walked through the hallways feeling like he was still in the middle of the fire, his brain full of smoke and ash. Somehow someone had found out that he was the one who called 911 and people were constantly accosting him in the hallways wanting to know what happened, which only made things worse. He didn’t know, he told them in a tired voice. He just knew that Rich and Jake were hurt, and the house had burned down.  
Apparently, Rich had set the fire in a feat of, astonishingly enough, sober insanity. Everyone else was perplexed, but Michael knew better. It was the squip. Michael hadn’t realized the importance of Rich’s semi-conscious mutter, “mountain dew red,” until long after he heard it, but by Monday he was sure of what had happened. Rich had been trying to get the squip out, just like the kid from Reddit. Which only made Michael more afraid of what it would do to Jeremy.  
After an extremely painful play practice involving Demetrius and Lysander refusing to make eye contact and Puck stopping occasionally to start sobbing, Michael decided to stop by the hospital and visit Rich. He had to see if Mountain Dew Red actually worked, so he could figure out a way to make Jeremy drink it. Luckily, he had been carrying the soda around ever since he had found out it could deactivate squips, just in case Jeremy snapped. All he had to do was give Rich some, and he would know for certain.   
The nurse told him that Rich would most likely be sleeping, but she let him into the room anyway. It felt so strange and sad to see Rich laying in the bed, covered in a full body cast, an IV drip attached to his arm. He had always been larger than life, but in the hospital bed, Michael realized just how small and weak he really was. And it scared him.  
“Yo, it’s you,” someone said from the bed next to Rich’s. It was difficult to see through the maze of Get Well Soon balloons and teddy bears, but Michael could just make out Jake’s face.   
“Hey man,” Michael said, moving over to his bed. It was a relief to get away from the horribly monotone and quiet area of Rich’s bed into Jake’s area, which was like an explosion of colorful get well paraphernalia. Jake was sitting up on his bed, both of his legs in big boot casts and raised up with cushions.  
“You’re the one who called 911 after the fire, right?” He asked.  
“Yeah,” Michael responded, wincing. He didn’t want to hear about how he should have been sooner, or how he should have gotten Jake out when he saw him in the hallway. He got that enough from himself.  
“I wanted to thank you,” Jake said. Michael looked up at him, surprised. “You saved my ass. And Rich.”  
“Nah,” Michael said. He felt like he didn’t deserve any of this praise. “You’re the real hero. I heard you saved Rich’s life.”  
Jake shrugged. “So what are you doing here?” He asked, changing the subject.  
“I was hoping to give Rich something, but it looks like he’s asleep.”  
“You could give it to me and I can pass it on,” Jake said.  
Michael hesitated. It was his only Mountain Dew Red and he didn’t want to leave it all at the hospital in case some shit went down. “You got a cup?” He asked.  
Jake pointed to the table next to him. “There’s a mug somewhere in there.”  
Michael rummaged through the pile and pulled out a mug covered in flowers that said, of course, Get Well Soon. He pulled the Mountain Dew out of his bag and poured some of it in the mug.  
“Dude, no way,” Jake said. “Is that Mountain Dew Red?”  
“Sure is,” Michael said.   
“Rich was going crazy looking for that stuff before the fire. I thought they discontinued it in the 90’s.”  
“I have a supplier,” Michael said, putting the cap back on the bottle. “Can you give this to Rich when he wakes back up?”  
“Sure thing. He’s gonna flip out.”  
“Oh, and if I give you my number, can you text me when you give it to him?”  
“Uh, I guess.” Jake passed Michael his phone, and Michael entered his number.  
“Just tell me what he says. Especially if he says anything about a squip.”  
“All right man. That all?”  
“Yeah. Thanks a lot.”  
“No problem.”  
“See you around,” Michael said.  
“Likewise.”  
Then Michael left, with the half empty bottle of Mountain Dew Red burning a hole in his pocket. Now there was nothing to do but wait.  
He got the text the next day in Chemistry.   
I GAVE RICH THE SODA. HE SAID “THE SQUIP IS GONE.” GOOD?  
Michael smiled.   
EXCELLENT, he texted back.   
From then on, it was just a matter of finding the right opportunity. Michael was sure something bad was going to go down very soon, and so he watched Jeremy like a hawk, even though every time he saw him his whole body felt like his hand after he punched the mirror. Jeremy just kept on ignoring him though, or maybe it was the squip. But Michael got the feeling it was Jeremy.  
Then it was time for the play. If he hadn’t been so nervous about everything going down with the squip, Michael would have been crazy nervous about his first opening night. But now, with everything going on, the play seemed so inconsequential it was almost funny. Not to mention, they had removed the second and third show because of the fire, and Mr. Reyes was now taking over both Rich and Jake’s parts, so the whole thing was just kind of an inside joke. Michael put his costume on and got his makeup done from the buff lunch lady who helped them out, and then stood nervously backstage, waiting for the show to start. Jeremy was nowhere to be seen, and Michael was starting to get really worried that something was wrong. The Mountain Dew was in his bag, a few feet from the wings, and all Michael could do was just hope he could get there in time if Jeremy did show up.  
Then the show started, and Jeremy was still nowhere to be seen. Michael went on for his first scene with Mr. Reyes, who kept hopping back and forth saying Rich’s lines and then Jeremy’s. The scene was terrible, but Michael wasn’t focused on the play anymore. He was just praying Jeremy would be backstage when he got back.   
Michael exited stage left. Everything was quiet back there, which helped calm his nerves. He still grabbed the bottle of Mountain Dew Red from his bag though, just in case.  
Michael crossed over through the dressing rooms behind the stage, and saw Chloe muttering something to herself and twitching. Then he passed Brooke and Christine, who were doing the exact same thing. Oh God… Michael broke into a run towards the stage right wing. They’d all been squipped. Which meant—there was Jeremy, in the hallway they used to store props.   
“Michael—” he shouted. “Where’s Michael?” Then he screamed and started flying around the room like he was possessed. Michael ran over to him and Jeremy landed at his feet.  
“Need some refreshments?” Michael asked, holding up the bottle.  
“Is that—”  
“Mountain Dew Red. I told you I did my research.”  
“That’s amazing! Give it to me!”  
“Okay.” Michael hesitated. He should just give Jeremy the soda so this could all be over. But after all the shit he’d put Michael through, Jeremy didn’t deserve that. “Wait, no.”   
“But I need it!” Jeremy begged.  
“And I need an apology. I think that’s in order. You acted like we could be friends, then you treated me like a dick over and over again when I was just trying to help you--”  
“Fine!” Jeremy said. “I’m sssss… I’m saaaa…”  
“Seriously? It’s that hard to say sorry?”  
”Yyyyes! Come on man, this is important.”  
“Well this is important to me!”   
“It’s a word,” Jeremy said.  
“It’s a gesture! Gestures matter!”  
Suddenly Jeremy started punching and kicking at Michael, who stepped backwards, stunned.  
“This is so you!” Jeremy said. “You love to feel superior, just because you listen to music on vinyl and eat eel in your sushi and don’t care about being popular!”  
“Of course I care!” Michael shouted. “I just know it’s never going to happen!”  
“But it could have happened! You could have been popular if you just listened to me! My squip told me not to tell you about squips, but I said I wanted to help you. I told you how to do it. And you said no to me!”  
“I said no because I’m never going to be good enough for the popular kids.”  
“Well I’m never going to be good enough for you!” Jeremy shouted.  
Michael froze. What? Then he almost got decked by one of Jeremy’s punches.  
“Then why are you hitting me?” Michael asked.  
“I’m not trying to!”  
“Don’t try harder!”  
“It’s—not—me—it’s—my—SQUIP!” Jeremy said. He managed to pull himself away. “It’s taking over my body! I need your help!” Michael hesitated. “I’M SORRY!” Jeremy yelled.  
Michael ran over to Jeremy and tried to pin him down, but Jeremy was flailing wildly. Suddenly, Michael heard crutches coming down the hallway.  
“Jake!” He shouted. Jake turned and started coming over to him. “This is going to sound weird, but if I hold down Jeremy, can you make him drink this Mountain Dew Red?” He threw Jake the bottle and Jake caught it effortlessly.   
“Actually, that doesn’t sound weird at all,” he said. Then he shuddered and poured the bottle on the ground.  
“No!” Michael shouted.  
Jake smiled an evil smile and then let the crutches fall to the floor.  
“It healed your legs?” Jeremy asked in shocked amazement.  
“No, but I can’t feel the pain. It’s awesome. God, I love me.”  
Michael was paralyzed with fear. Brooke and Chloe came around the corner from the dressing room in perfect unison.   
“There you are Jeremy,” they said together.  
“I just want you to know, I’m not mad you broke my heart and slept with my best friend,” Brooke said.  
“And I’m not mad you dated my best friend and wouldn’t sleep with me,” Chloe said.  
“He didn’t sleep with you?”  
“No!”  
“He didn’t sleep with me!”  
As terrified as he was, Michael felt a twinge of relief.  
“Oh my God, why was I so jealous of you?” Brooke and Chloe asked at the exact same time. “You were jealous of me? That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me! Sisters forever! JINX!”  
Michael was so transfixed by the two of them that he barely noticed Jeremy’s whisper.  
“Michael…the bottle… there’s a few drops left.”  
“How am I supposed to get past them?” Michael asked.  
“You ever play Apocalypse of the Damned?” Jeremy asked.  
Michael smiled. “Level nine!” He said  
“The cafetorium!”  
Michael remembered the character’s movement from his favorite video game, and tried to replicate it with Jeremy’s help. Somehow, he snuck past Brooke and Chloe, and grabbed the soda bottle.  
“Got it!” He said.  
And then he saw Jenna Rolan.  
“I know what you’re doing Michael,” she said. “I know what everyone’s doing! All the time!”  
Jenna was scary enough under normal circumstances, but right now Michael had no time to be scared. “Jeremy! Catch!” Michael shouted, and threw the bottle to Jeremy, just as he was surrounded by the others.  
“Michael!” He shouted. “No!”   
Through the circle of people, Michael could see Jeremy struggle to bring the bottle up to his lips, but it was like his arms were resisting him.  
“Why not?” He said through gritted teeth, and Michael realized he must be talking to his squip.  
Then the group of people parted across from where Michael was, revealing Christine. She was in her Puck costume and she was kind of sweaty, but Michael was sure Jeremy saw the most beautiful girl in the world.   
“Jeremy?” She asked.  
“…Christine?” He asked. No. Fuck, Jeremy. Michael tried to push through to him, but the squipped students were like a wall.   
“Did you see me out there? The audience loved me!” Christine said.  
“I… that’s great! I mean, of course they did.” Jeremy had stars in his eyes, and Michael’s heart broke watching him.  
“I’m so glad I found you here. I wanted to apologize.”  
“You? Why?”  
“Because, silly. You were right… about how it feels. I…feel…amazing.”  
“No,” Jeremy said.   
“And I realize now. You are the person I want to be with every day. You’re the guy I would kinda be into. And this is something that I’ve been afraid to say.”  
“That is not Christine,” Jeremy said.   
“Jeremy…” Christine said. “I love you.”  
No… It was all over now, maybe everything. Jeremy moved closer to Christine and Michael could barely watch, barely stand to see it.  
“Drink this,” he said. And he pressed the Mountain Dew Red bottle up to her lips.   
Thank God. Michael felt the weight lift off his shoulders.  
“How do you feel?” Jeremy asked.   
And then suddenly Christine opened her mouth and screamed, a sound that was so loud and horrible that Michael was sure his ears were bleeding. All the kids around him started screaming too, and Michael pressed his hands to his ears and ran over to Jeremy. He wrapped him in a hug, as if he could shield him from the noise, and then Jeremy started screaming too, and Michael passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I wanted to say thanks for all the nice comments and kudos. I just kind of wrote this for myself on a whim and decided to put it up here in case anyone wanted to read it, so I'm glad people have been enjoying it. There's one last chapter that finally gets gay so be on the lookout for that some time in the next few days. Thanks again!


	4. Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael wakes up in the hospital, but it takes Jeremy a while to wake up. Voices in my head, but this doesn't really line up with the musical any more at all.

He woke up in a hospital room by himself. Outside the window, it was pitch black, and Michael was extremely confused for a good three minutes before he remembered what had happened. He looked around the room and discovered that his phone was sitting on the table next to him. It was 1:03 AM, the day after the play. So he’d only been out a few hours. He sighed, relieved. Then he continued to look around the room. Wasn’t there supposed to be a call button for nurses or something? At last, he found it on the controller thing for his bed. He pressed the button, and a nurse came in, wearing turquoise scrubs.   
“You’re awake,” he said. “That’s good.”  
“Where’s Jeremy?” Michael asked.  
“Is that the kid that you were holding onto when you came in?” Michael nodded. “We could barely tear you two apart. He’s fine, he’s just in another room. You’re the first one to wake up. Do you think you could tell me what happened?”  
“If you promise not to send me to the psych ward,” Michael said.  
The nurse looked at him strangely, then laughed. “As long as there’s no aliens, monsters, or fairies, I promise I won’t,” he said.  
So Michael told him about the squips, and the Mountain Dew Red, and Jeremy. Even as he said it, he knew he sounded absolutely insane, but he was tired and it was the truth.  
The nurse scratched his head. “It’s a hell of a good story, I’ll give you that,” he said.  
“It’s the truth,” Michael said.   
The nurse shrugged. “Well I did promise not to send you to the psych ward,” he said. “We’ll just have to see what the others say.”  
“What about me?” Michael asked. “Am I okay to leave?”  
“You’re fine,” the nurse said. He glanced at Michael. “Physically, at least. But hospital rules say you have to stay the night.”  
“When can I visit Jeremy?”  
“Tomorrow morning. Just try to go back to sleep for now.”  
“Fine,” Michael said.  
“Good night,” the nurse said.   
Michael flopped down onto the bed and tried to go back to sleep. But the incidents from last night kept going over and over again in his head like a video on loop. Mostly, he kept thinking about what Jeremy had said.  
“I’m never going to be good enough for you.” What was that supposed to mean? Was it about Michael’s so called superiority complex? Or something else? Was he being sarcastic? Why would Jeremy think that he wasn’t good enough for Michael? And why would he even care? Michael would have to ask Jeremy when he woke up.  
Somehow, Michael fell asleep. When he woke up again there was so much discharge paperwork—made worse by the fact that his parents were nowhere to be seen—and tests that he ended up getting wheeled down to the hospital exit by a nurse without getting a chance to see any of the others.   
“You’re free to go,” the nurse said. Michael got out of the wheelchair slowly and walked out into the chilly November air. He had to go home now. But there was no part of him that wanted to. After a few steps, he hesitated and then turned back around and went back inside the hospital.  
“What’s wrong?” the nurse asked, as she was putting away Michael’s wheelchair.   
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m here as a visitor. I just need to see my friends.”  
“None of them are awake yet,” she protested.  
“I don’t care,” Michael said, and he got back in the elevator.  
He checked in with a very confused receptionist, and then went to Jeremy’s room. It was Jake and Rich’s room, but all the Get Well Soon things were gone and Jeremy was lying in the far bed instead of Jake. He was almost totally motionless except for the movement of his chest up and down and when Michael saw him like that it felt like he was choking on a razorblade.   
“Jeremy,” he said, moving over to the side of the bed. Jeremy didn’t respond.  
“He’s knocked out,” Rich said from his bed. Michael jumped, he hadn’t realized Rich was awake. “He’s been unconscious ever since they brought him in.”  
“Is he going to be okay?” Michael asked.  
“Hell if I know,” Rich said. His voice sounded huskier than before, like maybe his vocal chords had been hurt in the fire.  
“What did the nurses say? Did they sound like they were worried?”  
“Look, I was asleep, I didn’t hear shit, okay so don’t ask me,” Rich said. Then his face softened and he said, “Sorry. Habit. I’m sure he’s fine.”  
There was a beat of silence.  
“How are you doing?” Michael asked, still not leaving Jeremy’s bedside.  
“I feel like I just got power washed with a hose of fire,” Rich said. “But otherwise I’m okay. Better, now that you got rid of my fucking squip. Thanks for the hookup, by the way.”  
“No problem,” Michael said. He noticed that Rich had a slight lisp, why had he never heard it before?  
“And thanks for, you know, calling 911 that night.” Michael wasn’t sure if Rich’s face was burned or it was just the blushing. “I’d probably be dead right now if it wasn’t for you. And Jake.”  
Michael wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “You’re welcome,” he said.  
“You know, you’re really not such a bad guy. Maybe that’s why Heere was so obsessed with you.”  
Michael felt like someone had knocked all the air out of him.  
“He what?” He asked.  
“Yeah, Jeremy didn’t pick on anyone like he did you. Like he’d go out of his way to find you and bother you. Didn’t you notice?”  
Michael’s face was Barbie pink. “I—uh—he—”  
“I always thought it was more than just Christine he was crazy about, if you know what I mean,” Rich said.  
Michael felt himself smiling. “Really?” He asked.   
“Totally. I mean, he’d never admit it. But I’m not as oblivious as I seem.”  
Michael looked down at Jeremy lying in bed and he felt warmth spread through his whole body. Did Jeremy really like him? It seemed too crazy to believe.  
“You like him, right? No judgement. I’m totally bi now.”  
Michael nodded. He really did.   
“Then just go for it. I mean, life is short, right? You never know when someone’s going to accidentally burn down your house, or a crazy quantum computer is going to try to take over the world. You just gotta do what you gotta do.”  
“Thanks, Rich,” Michael said.  
It was a long time before Michael went home that day. Christine woke a little later in the morning, and then Brooke sometime in the afternoon, and Michael had a tearful reunion with both of them, who all seemed to think they were best friends with him suddenly. The next day it was Chloe and Jake. Then Jenna the day after that. Finally, all of the other previously squipped students were awake except for Jeremy, and Michael was freaking out.  
“It’ll happen,” Jake said from the chair next to Rich’s bed, where he had been spending a lot of time ever since he woke up. “He’s probably just taking the longest cause he was squipped the longest.”  
“But what if he doesn’t wake up? What if I never get to tell him how I feel?”   
“Chill Michael. He’s going to wake up,” Rich said.  
“I guess you’re right…”   
But the doctors were saying it was a coma, and the longer Michael waited the more anxious he got.   
“It’s like, I hardly even know him, and he’s probably a totally different person without his squip anyways. What if he hates me now that it’s gone? Or what if I hate him? Or what if he forgets everything since he got the squip and he doesn’t even remember who I am? It could happen. I’ve seen The Last Five Years!”  
“Hm?” Christine asked, looking up from her Music Man script. It was lunchtime, and they were sitting in the black box together. “Look, Michael, if none of us lost our memories from when we were squipped, I’m sure Jeremy won’t either. And he can’t be that different without a squip that he would suddenly hate you once it was gone.”  
“You don’t understand! He had a Pac-Man tattoo before he was squipped! He was a totally different person!”  
And on and on it went until Michael was even annoying himself. Then, finally, a week after the play, Michael’s phone buzzed in the middle of English class. It was from Jake.  
HE’S UP.  
Michael had barely read the words before he got up and ran out of the class. He honestly didn’t care about getting in trouble, he just knew he had to see Jeremy. His dingy PT Cruiser groaned in complaint as he pulled onto the highway but he just ignored the sounds and pressed harder on the ignition. Then Michael was finally in the hospital parking lot, and he didn’t want to have to find a fucking parking spot and get a fucking ticket because Jeremy was awake and every second without him felt like ten years. Michael ran inside the main doors and jammed the elevator button, but it was taking too long to come so he took the stairs, racing two at a time to get up to the room. And then he was finally on Jeremy’s floor and his heart was racing so quickly that it wasn’t even beats anymore, just a brat a tat like a machine gun, and he wasn’t sure if he was excited or terrified but Jeremy’s room was right there and he had to go inside. And then he was running inside and Jeremy was there, and Jeremy was awake, and then Michael was kissing him because that’s all he could do, and then suddenly the world was slowing down again, was moving in total slow motion because Michael Mell was kissing Jeremy Heere and this was all Michael had wanted since he first laid eyes on him. Jeremy pulled away and then. And then Michael was certain that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. Jeremy was wide eyed and horrified, and he looked at Michael, mouth gaping. His face seemed to ask a silent, judging question.  
“I—I—” Michael tried to stutter out an explanation, but all that was coming were hot tears streaming down his cheeks.  
“Michael,” Jeremy said, only making him cry harder with the hard sound in his voice. “My dad is literally standing right there.” Michael looked up and saw Jeremy’s father standing next to the bed three feet from the two boys. He gave a tiny shell shocked wave, and then Jeremy started laughing, and so did Michael.  
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Jeremy’s dad muttered, and then they were alone again. Well, maybe not completely alone since Michael could hear Rich and Jake whispering behind them, cashing in their bets, but none of that mattered now.  
“I thought you hated me,” Michael whispered into Jeremy’s chest.  
“I could never hate you,” Jeremy said. “I’m so sorry Michael. I am so sorry.”  
“I love you Jeremy.”  
And then Jeremy pulled him back in again and Michael knew that this was the farthest possible thing to a mistake that had ever happened, and he was sure he had never been happier in his whole life. And everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! My tumblr is suburbanromances and my twitter is octoplatypus if anyone wants to follow me. Peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as one piece so if the chapter divisions seem weird, that's why. I'll try and post the other chapters spaced out over the next few days/weeks. Thanks for reading.


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